Poetical Works of Robert Bridges, Volume 3Bridges, Robert
General
Poetical Works of Robert Bridges, Volume 3
Bridges, Robert
English drama; English poetry
_Dom._ Go quickly then. If thou do well in this,
I will reward thee well. 1221
_Sel._ I will deserve it. [_Exeunt._
SCENE · 3
_The room in Otho’s house. Enter POPPÆA
and MAID._
_MAID._
Madam, the litter waits.
_POPPÆA._
Give me my mirror, miss.
Why, see how slovenly thou’st done my hair;
’Tis out already.
_Maid._ With your pardon, madam,
’Tis very well. Nay, ’tis as firm as a rock.
You look your best to-night.
_Pop._ Where is the flower
I gave thee?
_Maid._ Here, my lady.
_Pop._ Put it in.
There, there. Ay, that will do. Now where’s my cloak? [_Exit Maid._
_Enter Otho._
_OTHO._
So then you are going?
_Pop._ Yes, I go alone, 1230
Since you will not come with me.
_Oth._ You are always free
To have your way; but when your wish is mine,
It is twice yours. This time you know ’tis not:
And were I used to set constraint upon you,
Could it be said Otho e’er crossed his wife
With a command, it should be now: I’d say
This I forbid.
_Pop._ And why?
_Oth._ I entreat you, dearest.
_Pop._ I am pledged to go.
_Oth._ Go not.
_Pop._ There’s now no choice.
_Oth._ A light excuse would serve: a sudden sickness,
A cold, a headache. Do not go.
_Pop._ Why, look! 1240
If you are not jealous, Otho! jealous, jealous.
You see not straight.
_Oth._ I see you smile on Cæsar.
_Pop._ And think you, then, I must have turned my love
Where I have smiled? that I would play you false
For the pleasure of it?
_Oth._ Why then sup with Cæsar?
_Pop._ A trifle hangs upon him I would wear,—
The world.
_Oth._ So dazzled by the imperial splendour!
Think: to be Cæsar’s mistress for a year
Is not to rule the world.
_Pop._ I will be Cæsar’s wife.
_Oth._ Ah! look you then so high? 1250
_Pop._ Who shall be called my rival?
_Oth._ Cæsar’s wife.
_Pop._ She hinders not.
_Oth._ Oh, thou would’st never dare it,
Did’st thou not love him.
_Pop._ What should I not dare?
_Oth._ Hast thou considered well the ambiguous style
Thou goest to take, and yet determined?
_Pop._ Ay.
_Oth._ ’Tis death, ’tis death. I speak now but for thee:
Not for myself. The cup Octavia drinks
To quit thy place thou too wilt come to taste.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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